Born to Run
by Spader's Main Squeeze
Summary: Lizzie and Red are on the run, getting ready to leave the nation's capital. But will they escape without getting killed...or killing each other?
1. Chapter 1

As always, these characters belong to NBC...I just like to borrow them on occasion.

* * *

Glancing over her shoulder, Lizzie held her breath as she scanned the crowd for any sign of disruption. Hundreds of D.C. residents, with a smattering of tourists sporting their telltale garb, milled about the outdoor mall, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Now sitting near the summit of the bureau's Most Wanted List, Lizzie's training as an FBI agent had been serving her well. She could spot a tail some distance away, and was adept at identifying and assessing suspicious behavior in seconds. Satisfied that her surroundings were secure, Lizzie took a seat at an outdoor café, taking cover beneath a large, loudly colored parasol. She sipped a glass of water, trying not to tap her fingers nervously against the glass.

"God, where is he?" she muttered under her breath. Red had been gone for nearly 45 minutes, collaborating with an associate in preparation for their departure from the nation's capital. Lizzie began to reach for the burner phone nestled in her pocket when he approached the table. She had grown so accustomed to his three-piece suits and dashing fedoras she almost didn't recognize the man standing in front of her. The cut of his jeans drew her gaze to his member, the bulge prominent beneath the denim. The sleeves of his button down shirt were rolled, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each movement. His coiled chest hair, bleached by age, emerged from the top, set free by the loosed buttons at his collar. Last, but certainly not least, his signature headpiece replaced by a rather banal ball cap. Lizzie tried to pass off her arousal for an expression of nervous energy given their predicament.

"Where have you been," she said, with only a thinly veiled attempt at hiding her exasperation. "I've been waiting for nearly an hour, and I can only nurse this glass of water for so long before they decide to boot me from the table."

Reddington smirked at her choice of words, his eyes drifting to her exposed chest as he took a seat at the table. He couldn't help but admire the view afforded by the heather gray v-neck shirt revealing far more than she intended. The top, paired with black leggings and a cream-colored cable knit sweater, hugged her curves and cradled her best assets.

"Ahhh, Lizzie…you know these things take time. Besides, Carlos and I got to reminiscing about that time we were running with the bulls in Pamplona, narrowly escaping certain death, when…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, truly, I am…but we really need to get going," Lizzie said with a slight growl.

Reddington's face drew in as he pursed his lips. "Very well then…though you'd never guess how the story ended."

"I have a pretty good idea," Lizzie quipped as she began to rise from her seat at the table.

Without warning, Reddington reached for her arm, forcefully encouraging her to retake her seat. She was at first taken aback by the sudden motion, then overtaken with anger and then fear.

"What's going on?" she begged, her eyes wide with inquisition.

"I've been watching a handful of men for the past ten minutes, circling around us like buzzards ready to descend upon a recent kill. I'm not certain, but I fear they've recognized our faces," Red said beneath his breath, his lips barely moving.

"So much for your honed skills of observation," Lizzie thought, chastising herself heartily. "And noticing how attractive Reddington is wearing casual clothes hardly qualifies."

Reddington stood and adjusted his cap. He nonchalantly looked from left to right to further survey the field. Satisfied that the men were, at least momentarily, distracted by other matters, he reached for Lizzie's hand and took hers in his. He led her from the café to the center of the pedestrian mall flooded with increased foot traffic at the noon hour.

"We need to start making our way to the safehouse. Mr. Kaplan has secured a temporary location where we can stay prior to our departure first thing tomorrow morning."

"That's fine and great, but how are we going to lose these tails?" questioned Lizzie.

Before Reddington had a chance to respond, Lizzie caught the flash of his service revolver, holstered for the time being but ready for immediate use. She felt herself become aroused at the sight of his weapon; the implied power and domination was nearly too much for her to handle.

Sensing a change in demeanor, Reddington stopped walking and faced Lizzie, his left hand reaching out to gently stroke her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laden with concern. "We'll get through this, I promise."

"Yeah, I'll be okay…I will feel better once we are…" she said as her voice trailed off.

As she attempted to finish the sentence her pulse quickened at the sight of the undercover officers closing in.

"We've got to go…now!" Lizzie said with an urgency that startled even Reddington.

With that they started making their way through the dense crowd, the shouts imploring them to "stop and put their hands in the air" muffled by the shrieks and screams of the people panicking around them.

Finally breaking free they dashed across the busy road separating the green space from the industrial wasteland awaiting them. Upon reaching the sidewalk they traveled on foot for nearly two blocks when they ducked into an alleyway.

"I hate to do this, but I think we increase our odds of escape if we split up," he said, his breath quickened. "Make your way to the safehouse at 25th and Euclid as soon as possible. I've written down the address on this piece of paper. Go!"

Fueled by equal parts indignation and resentment, Lizzie dashed down the alley, looking back to see Reddington poised to do the same.

* * *

Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. Lizzie nervously paced about the quaintly decorated room of the safehouse. The residence could have been snatched from a 1960's copy of Home and Garden, its appearance a model for the era.

"He will be okay. He is a survivor," Dembe said in his typical demure tone.

"We split up more than two hours ago, and he won't answer his cell. I'm going to look for him." As Lizzie reached for her phone sitting on the end table adjacent to the couch Reddington donned the door. A nod between Dembe and his benefactor was his cue to disappear into the background.

"What the HELL happened to you?!" Lizzie screamed, caring little for who might hear her. "I've been waiting on you for hours, you wouldn't pick up your phone…"

"Well hello, Lizzie. Not quite the greeting I was expecting, but…"

Lizzie leapt forward, shoving him with such force he lost his balance.

"How could you do that to me? Leave me alone to fend for myself? To try and find the safehouse without you? What if something happened to me?"

The words hung heavily in the air as Lizzie's inner monologue ran rampant with self-criticism. "You are a strong, independent woman who doesn't need ANYONE to help you. You can take care of yourself, just as you have done for years." But deep down she knew this was the case. There was something else at play; something she didn't want to admit to herself, much less Reddington. She didn't want to lose him…she didn't want to spend a single minute apart from him. Lizzie dropped her head and began to weep softly as the insight flooded her with emotions of such foreign nature.

"I didn't WANT to leave you, Lizzie…I would go to the ends of the earth to ensure your safety. But in this situation, I felt splitting up was best," he said, keeping his distance for fear of further retaliation.

Lizzie lifted her head and their eyes met. "I know, but…"

She once again lunged forward; but this time, rather than shoving him away she pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely. Her efforts to cloak her true feelings fell away along with the rest of the world.

Reddington's left hand cupped her head while the right landed on the small of her back, propelling her pelvis toward his. He had waited years for this moment, fearful it would never come. But it had…and it was far more spectacular than he ever imagined.

Lizzie felt the dampness between her legs saturate her panties. At her urging, Reddington's hands coursed over the fabric, her leggings now damp as well. He scooped her up into his arms and walked to the nearest sleeping quarters. Setting her gently on the bed he shut the door behind them and removed his hat, carefully placing it on the dresser. He sauntered to her resting place with his charismatic swagger. Within moments he removed her pants and red lace panties, tossing them aside haphazardly.

Reddington buried his head between her legs. His tongue, skillfully flickering and teasing, lapped up her sweet nectar. Her engorged clitoris pulsated as he nipped and sucked. Feeling herself near orgasm she pulled him away, wanting the exchange to never end.

"I can't let you have ALL the fun," she said firmly as she rolled him onto his back.

Sitting atop his groin she felt his welcoming response and smiled. After kissing him softly on the mouth she began to unbutton his shirt.

"You know, I could get used to this casual look. There is something incredibly sexy about this ensemble."

"Oh yeah?" he said as his tongue licked his lips. "What do you like about it?"

"Well, for one, I don't have to wrestle with your tie and vest. I like the idea of immediate access. Now, as for those jeans of yours."

She grabbed the belt with her teeth and began to loosen its grip on his waist.

"I couldn't help but notice how they perfectly outline your oh so plentiful package. Your dress pants are much too loose…though I did always enjoy the view from behind."

Reddington chuckled. "I didn't want to say anything, but I did notice your glances on several occasions."

"As though you didn't return the favor?" she said with a laugh.

Lizzie continued undressing him, pausing briefly when she reached his boxers.

"I always wondered whether you were a boxer or briefs kind of guy. I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see the former, in silk fabric no less. Those lucky, lucky boxers…" she said as her hand began to stroke his member.

Once Reddington was fully disrobed Lizzie followed suit to reveal the rest of her perfectly taught body. She began to kiss his inner thighs before reaching the base of his member. She ran her tongue along his lengthy shaft, her mouth soon engulfing the head.

Reddington let out a guttural moan. "God, don't stop. Oh god, Lizzie." With each palpation and suckle he groaned; her nipples coursing up and down his legs with each movement teased and tickled. She began to feel the telltale signs of orgasm course through his member. Despite his pleas to continue, she stopped.

"Is everything okay? I know we are moving fast, and I just want to make sure you aren't having seconds thoughts," the trepidation in his voice palpable. "I don't want this to complicate matters, or strain our working relationship, whether in or outside the law."

"You talk too much," Lizzie said with a wink. "Let me show you."

She slid onto his member with ease, her core further moistened by her increasingly heightened arousal. Her hips skillfully tugged and pulled him deeper inside. Her breasts swayed with each movement, held static only when cupped by Reddington's hands.

Lizzie lowered her body to be closer to him. As she tightened her core around him she whispered into his ear.

"I love you, Raymond Reddington."

Rolling over, Reddington braced himself on top of her. His thrusts were carefully measured, both in depth and pace. Lizzie gripped the dampened sheets beneath her, determined to hang on as long as she could. But as she felt his engorged member release its warmth in bursts, she, for the first time in her life, totally and completely let herself lose control.

* * *

With Lizzie's head on Reddington's shoulder, she took a deep breath and sighed.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to scream at you. I think my emotions got the better of me. The thought of losing you is overwhelming; I can't imagine my life without you."

"I knew you'd come around," Reddington laughed.

Lizzie propped herself up to see his face, memorizing every last feature as though it would be the last time she'd see him.

"You are such a pain in my ass," she groaned. "Oh, and by the way, when someone says 'I love you,' its only polite to say it back."

By now Reddington had sat up, leaning against the headboard that not 30 minutes prior banged loudly against the wall during their passionate lovemaking.

"Did you ever look at the piece of paper I gave you with the address for the safehouse on it?"

Puzzled, she shook her head as to say "no." "When I got to the corner of 25th and Euclid I saw Dembe about halfway down the street, so I didn't need the exact house number."

"Why don't you take a look…"

With that Lizzie crawled out of bed and reached for her sweater; she had left the scrap of paper in the pocket. She gingerly opened the folded set of instructions. Inside was the typed address, "2760 Euclid Avenue." Below the address was, written in Red's chicken scratch, "I love you, Lizzie. Now and always."

"Red, I am so sorry…I didn't mean to…" she said as she cuddled up next to him, still clutching the note.

"Now who's being a pain in the ass?" he said softly, kissing her on the forehead and then cheek.

Before she could get another word in edgewise he slipped his tongue between her lips, his hand looking to separate the other pair…

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Standard Disclaimer: this is rated M for mature...or naughty, if naughty started with an "m." As always, these characters belong to NBC...I just like to borrow them on occasion.

* * *

Wet with perspiration, Lizzie flopped onto her side of the bed, her chest heaving as she sought to catch her breath.

"Reddington, I'm impressed...your notoriety as a concierge clearly extends to other aspects of your life as well," she said with a grin.

A cool breeze wafted through the open window announcing the arrival of nightfall. The air provided a welcome reprieve from the heat generated between them.

Reddington paused before proffering a response, wallowing in her satisfaction and his own. Since their first meeting at the Post Office, he yearned for their relationship to transcend the artificial boundaries imposed upon them. It was no longer a question of criminal versus cop, sinner versus saint…the intimacy shared between them shaded any areas in between, blurring whatever distinctions remained. But now, lying beside her, he could only focus on one thing: keeping her safe at all costs.

"I'm presuming that's a complement, though I only wish to provide those services to you," he finally replied, chuckling as he imagined what all those services might entail.

Before Lizzie could continue their repartee there was a knock on the bedroom door. Reddington begrudgingly slid out of bed and put on his boxers and t-shirt before exiting the room.

"Raymond, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there is an important phone call for you," Dembe said with his characteristic solemnity.

Reddington stepped into the living room for privacy…and to try and hide the prominence of his still-swollen member straining against the light cotton fabric holding it captive. Even though Dembe was his near constant companion, and had bore witness to his previous romantic entanglements, this time was different.

"Reddington…" his commanding voice reverberating about the room.

"Red, its Tom. I just heard about the Attorney General. Let me talk to Liz, I need to make sure she's okay."

Reddington cringed at the sound of Tom's voice. He chided himself for not taking care of matters when he had the chance, finally removing the ever-present thorn twisting and turning in his side.

"Tom, your sudden outpouring of concern is admirable, though lacking in authenticity. You have jeopardized her well-being far too many times, and I will not allow that to continue."

"Red, please. I can help clear her name. I have information…"

Reddington's ire rose to a fever pitch, interrupting Tom with an acerbic retort.

"You outgrew your usefulness years ago, and now you are a liability if nothing else. Lizzie is safe, with me...and it will remain that way."

"Wait," Tom pleaded, "let me finish. I've got evidence establishing a link between Connelly and the Cabal. But she needs to turn herself in, now. And if she won't…well, the task force might be interested in where you've been and where you're heading."

Despite his years of being on the run, and all the close calls he's had, Tom's claim nearly brought Reddington to his knees. There were few, if any, reasons to trust his former operative. The effects of his betrayal ran deep; shifting loyalties to Berlin had jeopardized his business interests and caused Lizzie irreparable harm. But he could not take any chances.

"I generally put very little stock in what you have to say. But, if you truly care about Lizzie as much as you say you do, let her go. I will handle this."

With that Reddington ended the call. He closed his eyes tight and sighed. The task force was posing enough problems on its own; adding Tom to the equation just made the situation that much more volatile.

"Dembe, plans have changed. We need to leave now instead of tomorrow morning as arranged. Call Mr. Kaplan and let her know we need a new place to stay tonight. Then call Glenn and have him track down Tom and see what he's been up to since returning from his little luxury cruise."

Tossing the phone to Dembe, Reddington walked briskly to the bedroom where Lizzie awaited his return.

Hearing the click of the turning doorknob, Lizzie propped herself up in bed, resting on her bent elbows. She was about to welcome Red with an amusing quip regarding his return when she saw the bewildered look on his face.

"Lizzie, our safety has been compromised. I'll tell you more after we get on the road."

Knowing better than to question his commands, Lizzie scrambled out of bed and dressed, with him following suit. She then gathered the few belongings she still had in her possession: a picture of her and Sam, the raggedy stuffed rabbit that had, at one time, sheltered the fulcrum, and a satchel filled with necessities.

Within twenty minutes Dembe had eliminated any evidence of their stay at the residence and brought the vehicle around to the front of the home. Lizzie and Red crawled into the back seat of the town car and settled in for the drive. They traveled for some time before Lizzie finally broke the silence between them.

"Reddington, what's going on," her voice heavy with concern.

Reddington reached for Lizzie's hand and squeezed it gently. She took comfort in this small gesture, as did he.

"Tom called this evening. That's who was on the phone. He claims he has a way to clear your name…at the cost of turning yourself in. When I refused, he insinuated that he knew our whereabouts and future plans, information that would be of high value to the task force. While I hardly trust him, I didn't want to further jeopardize our safety."

In the beginning of their relationship Lizzie would have bristled with resentment at Reddington calling the shots regarding Tom. But now, after all they had been through, she knew there was only one man she wanted in her life…her protector…her savior…her sin eater.

"I understand. You did the right thing. I want nothing to do with him; he has proven time and again that his motives are questionable, to say the least."

Lizzie moved closer to Red to rest her head on his shoulder. She could still smell the sweet scents fermented during their lovemaking on his neck. With her free hand she reached across his leg, running her fingers between the crevice of his thighs until she reached the base of his member. As she began to massage his manhood her lips softly swept to his ear.

"Raymond," she said in a quiet hush.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I love you…," her voice trailing off.

"I love you too…"

* * *

For weeks they crisscrossed the DC area from one safehouse to the next. Reddington's meticulously crafted plan to leave the metropolis would be put on hold until he could determine just how much Tom knew…and where he was getting his information. The thought of the man brought a distinct, bitter taste to his mouth.

The town car pulled into an underground parking lot. Reddington tenderly roused Lizzie from her catnap.

"Where are we?" Lizzie said, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Its a bit of a surprise," he replied, smiling at the idea of what awaited them.

They made their way to the elevator to take them to the penthouse suite. Mr. Kaplan had secured the top floor of The Jefferson for their use. The downtown location was a bit of a gamble, even with Kate's skilled vetting of the location and the staff working within. But the idea of hiding within plain sight was ingenious; the selection of a luxurious hotel was the proverbial icing on the cake.

Dembe opened the door and ushered them into their room. The space was richly decorated in hardwoods and marble, decadent in every regard. A bookcase housed an assortment of titles to appease any bibliophile. And the king size bed, luxuriously wrapped in the finest European-crafted linens, was crowned with an assortment of red and white rose petals.

"Red!" Lizzie exclaimed, with equal parts excitement and surprise. "This place is amazing!"

"Our sudden change of plans required an adjustment to our itinerary…so why not indulge?"

Reddington smiled as Lizzie stepped toward him. Wrapping her arms around his waist she pulled him close.

"You have NO idea how wonderful this is…how wonderful this feels, to be here with you."

Lizzie's hands began to wander as she kissed Reddington's warm, moist lips. He reciprocated with bravado, his face flushing as his arousal coursed through his body. They started to make their way to the bed so beautifully adorned when there was a knock on the door.

On high alert following his conversation with Tom, Reddington removed himself from their embrace and approached the door, gun drawn. It was a bit of an extreme response, perhaps, but protocol was protocol.

"Who is it," he growled.

"Room service," a timid voice replied.

Reddington motioned to Dembe to open the door and assess the situation. Much to their relief, it was just as the meek young man had said.

"Complements of a…, uhhh…" as he twisted the envelope to read the inscription, "Mr. Kaplan." Reddington snatched the message from its courier, replacing the note with a generous tip.

"Enjoy your night and try and get some rest," the card read. "You'll need it."

Reddington smiled, thinking fondly of his friend. He treasured his relationship with Kate, and knew he could always rely on her to come through.

The cart wheeled in by the staff hosted an array of prepared dishes from the hotel's onsite eatery. Each lid lifted revealed another delicacy, each more decadent than the last.

"Dinner is served…but dessert will have to wait for just a short while," Reddington said with a sly smirk.

As they dined they relished the opportunity to discuss matters wholly unrelated to Lizzie's case. For once they could focus on each other, sharing intimate details about their biggest dreams and looming fears. Normalcy was a concept foreign to them both. But as the candles on the dinette table reached the end of their wicks and the last drops of wine were emptied from the bottles, they knew it would be fleeting, at least for the time being.

Following dinner Lizzie drew a bath in the oversized Jacuzzi tub. Once settled against the gushing jets, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The tension that had settled deep within her body loosened, eroded by the warmth of the water flowing over her body. Her eyes fluttered open when he heard a soft knock on the frame of the bathroom door as Reddington announced his presence.

He walked to the edge of the bath and sat down on the ledge.

"Why don't you join me?" Lizzie said as she splashed the water playfully.

"I've got a much better idea. I'd love for you to have the full spa experience offered by the hotel. But, given that we are trying to fly under the radar, the spa will have to come to you."

Reddington rolled his sleeves and began washing Lizzie's hair, running his hands through her now blonde locks. He skillfully massaged her scalp with a specially crafted shampoo made with coriander, camelina, and apricot essential oils. The ceiling fan overhead circulated the aromas about the steam-infused room, further complemented by the sugar-lemon soap used to cleanse her body.

He tenderly applied pressure to the sponge gliding across her skin to remove any remnants of the past 24 hours. This tenderness continued upon reaching her breasts. He cradled each with his hands, his fingers flitting across her nipples. They grew hard at his touch, as did his member. Lizzie moaned with each passing brush; it was only moments until her hand reached down to her folds, further enhancing her pleasure.

Reddington then rinsed Lizzie's body until it glistened under the light suspended from the ceiling. He helped her stand so he could begin to pat her body dry. Moving the downy towel across her legs he reached for her core, his hand sliding vertically between her legs. Lizzie groaned as his thumb rubbed against her clit. As the intensity between them grew, Reddington lifted her out of the tub and carried her to their awaiting palace.

* * *

Lizzie writhed against the sheets as her arousal peaked, grabbing hold of any fabric she could as she watched Reddington disrobe. He removed his boxers last. As he neared the bed he stroked his generous member, his powerful hands grappling with its girth. Within moments it was wet with pre-cum streaming from its head.

"Now Red, you can't have all the fun without me," Lizzie said as she licked her lips.

Reddington groaned as she wrapped her mouth around his cock. Her tongue swirled and swept around and across his member, her teeth gently tugging at its point. Lizzie would gladly have continued, had not Reddington pulled her away and turned her on her side.

Reaching from behind Reddington entered her folds. They moved their bodies in tandem, thrusting and gyrating to their own unique rhythm. He massaged her breasts, circling her nipples with the tips of his fingers.

"Dammit, Reddington, you are going to be the death of me..." Lizzie said, panting while pleading for more.

Reddington thrust in response, releasing a pool of cum within her canal. Lizzie came quickly thereafter, jutting her hips into his to reach even deeper than before. Her primal screams echoed about the room, dampened only by the ornate oil paintings adorning the walls. But it was much more than an expression of the exceedingly intense release of endorphins…it was her battle cry, a voicing of her I'm-not-going-to-take-shit-from-anyone attitude, a declaration of her fiercely protective love for Reddington.

"That's my girl…"

To be continued…


End file.
